


In My Blood

by lycanus1



Category: King Arthur (2004)
Genre: Affection, Feels, M/M, lustful thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 14:34:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6011446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lycanus1/pseuds/lycanus1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You're in my blood, Dag. I've got a taste for you ... "</p>
            </blockquote>





	In My Blood

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: The KA lads never were mine, still aren't mine and never will be. Everything you recognize, belongs to Jerry Bruckheimer and Touchstone Pictures – gods-damnit ! No copyright infringement is intended.

Dagonet idly rubbed the white star on Flight's head and couldn't help grinning when his thoughts kept persistently wandering back to the enigmatic Scout. He wasn't sure what they were now ... Friends ? There was no doubt of it. Brothers ? Yes, but a great deal more than that ... Lovers ... ?

The scarred Healer was far too cautious and intelligent a man to take anything for granted, especially where the volatile, mercurial, charismatic Aorsi was concerned. Yet despite his wariness and his wisdom, and the fact that they had only spent one magical, blissful night together, Dagonet knew deep in his heart, he'd finally found his shield mate for life and hoped and prayed that the younger man felt the same way about him.

Now, after removing Flight's bridle, as he sat in the stable with the others, anticipation mingled with desire and longing raged through him as he waited for Tristan's safe return.

Shortly, he heard hoof beats and raised his head up to see the dapple grey destrier trot confidently into the stable. Dagonet gave an imperceptible sigh of relief. Storm had brought Tristan back in one piece.

He eyed the lean Scout with a quiet hunger as he nimbly dismounted the pale mare, his movements powerful and full of grace. Tristan swiftly unsaddled the destrier then gently led it to the water trough to drink. Once the animal had drunk its fill, he rubbed it down briskly before silently coaxing it into its stall.

Not wanting to be caught staring by the others at the strikingly handsome Scout, Dagonet hastily averted his gaze and feigned interest in the ornate bridle he held in his hands. Although now he couldn't see the deadly young warrior, he immediately sensed his silent approach.

"Bloody hell, the wanderer returns !" Bors announced none too quietly. To the verbose, older Roxolani's surprize, his remark succeeded in drawing a faint, amused smile to the Aorsi's lean, noble features.

Gawain, who had been industriously honing the blade of his large battle axe with a whetstone, looked up and peered through his tangled, tawny mane and asked quietly, "So ... how was your patrol ?"

Tristan sighed heavily and gracefully shrugged his shoulders. "Quiet ... Too bloody quiet. I don't like it ..."

Galahad leant forward on the bench he shared with the blond Halani and remarked with a puzzled frown on his boyishly good looking face, "Surely that's a good thing ? Right ?"

The Scout slowly shook his head. "Hmm ... I don't know, Pup. It just doesn't _feel_ right - I'm getting a bad feeling about this."

Dagonet raised his head sharply at the Scout's soft-spoken words. He'd learnt long ago not to dismiss Tristan's uncanny ability to "feel" or sense trouble. Too often in the past for the Healer's liking, lives had been saved by the Aorsi's "feelings," for them to be taken lightly and ignored.

"How bad is it ?" Gawain asked, resting the axe on top of a leather-clad knee and running a hand through his wild, dirty-blond hair.

"All I can tell is," Tristan's amber eyes were cloudy with worry, "something big is coming - a great evil ... I fear it does not bode well for us ..." He reached into his boot and withdrew a fine, bone-handled hunting knife and absently began to toy with it.

"Have you spoken to Arthur, lad ?" Bors asked gruffly, stretching out on the bench beside his cousin.

Tristan shook his head slowly, "Not ye- "

"Why the bloody hell not ?" the older Roxolani demanded incredulously.

"Oh, believe me, I went to give my report _before_ I came here, but was unable to see Arthur ... Was told he wasn't to be disturbed - something about being "in conference" with Lancelot," Tristan smirked and leaned against a stall wall, looking perfectly at ease.

Bors rolled his eyes and groaned loudly. The all knew what _"in conference"_ meant. It was the code the five of them used, ever since Galahad and Gawain had accidentally stumbled across their leader, Arthur and his second-in-command, Lancelot, in a very compromising position which proved beyond all doubt that they were lovers and had been for some time ...

"You mean fucking _again_ !" Bors bluntly stated with his usual tact and diplomacy. Tristan shrugged and continued to smirk, as he used the knife to carefully clean under his grubby fingernails.

"I believe that's what "in conference" means when it comes to Arthur and Lance, Bors," Galahad chuckled, idly scratching his dark beard. "These "conferences" seem to be becoming more frequent. I'm starting to lose trac- "

"Don't tell me _you're_ actually keeping count ?" Turning around on the bench, Gawain looked aghast at his young lover.

"Well, it helps pass the time when you're too busy or knackered ..." Galahad coolly replied and gazed meaningfully at the strapping blond. His warm, dark brown eyes twinkled with obvious mischief.

Dagonet felt the Scout's eyes upon him as he absently listened to the Halanis' banter and Bors' roar of amused laughter. He felt a sudden rush of heat course like wildfire through his body before it settled in his loins, under Tristan's calm scrutiny.

Tristan bent down to sheath the knife back in his boot and leisurely drew himself up from the wall. With panther-like grace, he silently approached the tall, scarred Roxolani and stood before him.

"A word, Dagonet, if you'll permit ..." The Aorsi's husky voice was calm and even; the attractive, hawkish profile unreadable to anyone except Dagonet, who was scorched by the overwhelming golden heat of desire in the younger man's arresting eyes. It was the same look he'd received the night before last, when they had first lain together, and the lustful need - the genuine yearning - in the Scout's eyes had not diminished. If anything, it had grown stronger ...

For an instant, the intensity of Tristan's gaze had him rooted to the spot - no one had ever looked at him with so much passion and longing and it was both disturbing and exhilarating. Dazed, Dagonet slowly ran a trembling hand over his closely cropped scalp and shook his head as he recalled his vow earlier that day to his friend. A clandestine oath taken early that morning, between stolen kisses and forbidden caresses. The promise to go with him should he be asked.

He carefully placed Flight's bridle on the bench beside Bors, rose to his feet and gruffly submitted, "Lead on, Scout, I _will_ follow ..."

**_XXXXX_ **

Tristan fought hard against the huge grin of delight that threatened to break across his deadpan face, as he left the stable tailed by the imposing knight whom he loved and respected above all others.

For one brief, yet drawn out, horrible moment he feared Dagonet would reject his request. But the sight of the muscular Sarmatian giant rising with silent grace to his feet, came as a shock and left him feeling both elated and relieved. Dagonet had willingly kept his promise, despite the cost to his fiercely guarded privacy ...

Tristan was acutely aware of the mild silver gaze caressing his lean, toned physique. Of how it lingered hungrily, particularly on his broad shoulders, taut arse and well-sculpted thighs, borne of being constantly in the saddle.

The Roxolani had followed him without a word, ignoring the openly curious looks from the other three knights. The Scout led him out of view from the stable - his pace brisk, yet he appeared cool and composed - until they reached the steps that led up to the ramparts, which he began to quickly scale. He glanced over his shoulder and gestured for the Healer to follow him.

Dagonet soon realized where he was being taken and slowly shook his head in amazement. A shy, unexpected smile lit up his attractive face, endearing him all the more to the normally aloof Aorsi.

Suddenly, the Scout ducked into a dimly lit alcove and without warning tugged Dagonet in after him. Away from prying eyes. The action was so swift and unforeseen, that the Healer stumbled and as he tried to regain his balance, he felt Tristan's elegant, yet capable hands on his waist, steadying him.

"'S all right, Dag, I got you ..." Tristan murmured throatily, watching his friend carefully through an untamed fringe of dark hair, his steady gaze fixed upon Dagonet. He made no attempt to remove his hands from the Healer's trim waist. " _I've_ got you ..."

They both stood silently, unable to tear their eyes away from each other in the dim light, when Tristan gave a groan of pure longing before swiftly capturing Dagonet's lips in a searing, devastatingly erotic kiss.

Instinctively, Dagonet's arms slipped around Tristan's slender waist. He returned the kiss wholeheartedly, his probing tongue exploring and tasting the depths of Tristan's hot, moist mouth, making the Scout moan with frustration and need.

Unbelievably, the kiss deepened and intensified. Dagonet's right hand curled around Tristan's neck, his fingers gently caressing his nape as he continued to plunder the Aorsi's lips. In turn, the Scout's hands were now possessively cupping the taller man's arse. Massaging the toned buttocks through the form-fitting, brown leathers, until the rugged Healer groaned hoarsely, his body trembling with lust. Tristan drew him closer, craving more intimate contact. Their hips, involuntarily, began to grind suggestively against each other.

Eventually, Tristan broke the kiss, inhaling deeply and shakily. A flush of colour stained his pale, tattooed cheeks. Dagonet appeared similarly affected. His pale eyes shimmered like molten quicksilver and his broad chest rose and fell in sharp hitches of agitated frustration and need.

"I'm sorry, my wolf," Tristan rasped, once he was able to put his thoughts into coherent words. "But you won't believe how badly I've wanted to do that again ... It's all I've been able to think of all day !"

Dagonet slowly trailed his right hand from Tristan's throat and rested its palm directly over the younger man's furiously pounding heart. He idly rubbed his thumb against the Aorsi's green, suede tunic. There was a look of absolute wonder and deep affection in his pale, stormy eyes.

"Oh, I can well believe you," he replied huskily with a sudden, incredibly winsome smile. "I've been exactly the same ... I, uh, I missed you, Tris ... more than I ever dreamed possible."

Tristan flashed him a surprized yet delighted smile then raised a hand to tenderly caress the scarred knight's beloved face. "Me too, Dag. Me too ..." he quietly confessed then added with his usual blunt honesty, "I still want you. That night wasn't enough for me - I don't think I'll ever get enough of you ... You're in my blood, Dag. I've got a taste for you and that ... I fear I'll crave it until I draw my last breath ..."

The Healer silently responded to this heartfelt admission by turning his head to lovingly brush his lips against the sensitive skin of the Scout's palm. Tristan gasped sharply at the intimate gesture.

"I know I said I want you and I didn't lie. But not here, my wolf. I wish ... I want us to be alone, together. Where we cannot be disturbed," Tristan paused, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Unevenly. "Just us, Dag ... You and I ... No one else ..."

Dagonet moved his left hand to rest on Tristan's hip, laid his forehead gently against the Scout's and confessed softly, "That's what I want too - more than anything. I hunger for it, Tris. It's a constant, insatiable craving ... I want ... I need you as badly as the air I breathe ..."

Tristan reacted by inching closer. A rare, strikingly beautiful smile lit up his impassive countenance as he fiercely embraced his gentle, rugged lover.

"I go on patrol again later," he said quietly, his amber-gold gaze warmly caressing Dagonet's face. "Come with me ..." It was neither a question nor a demand, but a genuine invitation that came sincerely from the bloodthirsty Scout's heart.

The Healer simply nodded and with a gentle smile, replied huskily, "Aye, my Scout. For you ? Anything ..." He gently fingered one of Tristan's dark braids. The silver and black clan ring which he wore on his right index finger glowed faintly in the torchlight as he idly twisted the braid around it.

Tristan reached up to draw Dagonet's head towards his and kissed him soundly and with a great deal of passion, which the tall Roxolani reciprocated zealously.

"I never imagined it would be possible, but believe me, Dag, when I say _you_ are the most important person in my life ... I care not for any other but you ..." He felt Dagonet brush the tattooed stripes on his left cheek with his thumb and leaned into the light, gentle touch that he'd come to adore so much.

"Come, brother ... Let us go and find something to eat before we leave," Tristan lazily trailed a possessive hand down the striking warrior's impressive torso, before taking in the older Sarmatian's right hand and tenderly brushing its bruised knuckles with his lips.

Stunned by the Scout's sincerity, Dagonet could only nod silently, then as if bewitched by the Aorsi's words, followed him leisurely and without protest to the tavern ...

**Finis**

 


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